


waiting game

by andnowforyaya



Series: ink. [2]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Breathplay, Established Relationship, Fantasizing, M/M, Makeup, Multi, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, One Night Stands, Painplay, Piercings, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, References to Drugs, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Slut Shaming, Smoking, Spanking, Tattoos, Threesome, accidental painplay, banghimdae, past banghimlo, references to date rape but no drugging or raping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That boy. Daehyun. You want him?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. yongguk

“Who are you thinking about?” Himchan breathed out against his ear as he rode him, their hips rocking together. Yongguk pressed his fingers into the meat underneath Himchan’s ribs to slow him down.

It took a very long time for Yongguk to be able to read Himchan as accurately as Himchan could read Yongguk. It seemed, when they first met, that Himchan had reached into the folds of his brain with his long fingers and straightened out the tangled web he found with careful strokes. Himchan wasn’t messy on the inside like Yongguk; he wore everything on his skin and that confused him. Yongguk was used to being pulled out of himself, now, when Himchan was around.

“You,” Yongguk murmured, looking up at him. Himchan had a stylized phoenix that started under his shoulder blade and curled up over his bicep and spilled out onto his chest. He dug his thumbs into the feathers and rubbed them in concentric circles until he reached Himchan’s nipples where the bar piercings were warming.

“No you’re not,” Himchan sang out, back arching under Yongguk’s touch. It made his dick push deeper into the other and Yongguk exhaled and let his eyes roll back. Himchan continued to rock, slow and languid, and he put his fingers up against Yongguk’s lips and pried in between his teeth. Sometimes Yongguk thought Himchan wanted to unzip him through the mouth and crawl inside of him. He’d let him. He’d let Himchan do anything.

“Who are you thinking about?” Himchan asked again. He started moving up and down the same way his fingers were pushing into Yongguk’s mouth. Yongguk couldn’t answer, so he moaned instead.

Heat built up between them as Yongguk thought back on the boy who had come into their shop today, squirrely but promising. He hadn’t quite grown into himself yet. He had the kind of shoulders that slumped because he wasn’t sure how to be confident, but he was learning. His hair had been black and shiny and he’d worn eyeliner around his big doe eyes but no other makeup. The skin of his back had been smooth and unblemished and Yongguk had gotten a rush out of being the one allowed to mar it.

He thought of the way the boy had trembled when the gun was pressed up along his skin. His breathing had slowed and Yongguk had found himself emulating its rhythm, working himself into a trance as he painted a permanent scar on that dusky canvas. He remembered his voice, light and smooth like water bubbling over stones, and how he sounded when he moaned.

His dick twitched inside of Himchan and Himchan gasped, mouth falling open on a jagged smile. He took his fingers out. Yongguk swallowed the spit that had gathered in his mouth.

“Tell me,” Himchan demanded, moving faster.

“The boy from earlier,” Yongguk said. “Daehyun.”

Himchan ground down until their bellies were pressed flat against each other, his cock trapped between them, Yongguk’s straining against his hole. “What about him,” Himchan teased as he swiveled his hips and played with the head of Yongguk’s dick inside of him, his mouth working against Yongguk’s collarbones and his teeth scratching against his pulse.

“His back,” Yongguk groaned. Himchan sucked on his throat and it made his toes curl into the sheets. His hands found their way to the globes of Himchan’s ass and he kneaded and pulled the muscle there, urging Himchan back down. “His skin.”

Himchan let Yongguk move him. He let Yongguk roll them both over so that Yongguk was on top, now. He let Yongguk hold his legs up by his knees and drive his dick in as far as he could go. Himchan braced himself against the headboard and relaxed his throat so that all the noises Yongguk wanted to hear could drip from his mouth.

“How he was hard in his sweats,” Yongguk said, grunting as he built up rhythm, “I could smell it. I wonder how he’d taste.”

“Would you fuck him like me?” Himchan managed to smirk but the expression soon fell from his face as it gave way to unrestrained pleasure.

“No,” Yongguk said. He relished the way Himchan became sinuous and lusty during sex. “I’d make him suck me off first.”

Himchan laughed.

Yongguk imagined Daehyun’s lips around his dick; those lips were plump and pink and looked naturally soft and slick. He’d slide the tip into the cavity between Daehyun’s teeth and cheek so he could see himself through a layer of flesh. He’d run his fingers through Daehyun’s shiny black hair and tighten and tug and Daehyun’s big eyes would tear up at the sudden rough pain, but his jaw would fall slack and Yongguk would be able to push in deeper.

Himchan moaned underneath him, reaching up and wrapping his slim fingers around the base of Yongguk’s throat. A quick nod gave him permission, and Himchan started to squeeze.

It always amazed Yongguk how quickly he could reach the edge with just a little pressure on his throat. Himchan’s eyes focused on the jump of his pulse and Yongguk fucked him with quick snaps of his hips, skin thumping wetly against skin.

His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as his lungs became aware of the lack of oxygen flowing to them. Himchan was panting and Yongguk was suffocating. Yongguk dropped down to his elbows so he could be kissing him when he came.

“Who are you thinking about now?” Himchan asked him, voice breaking on every thrust, a possessive gleam in his eyes.

“ _You_ ,” Yongguk choked out, and his orgasm caught him like a hook around his navel. His vision spotted as he came and Himchan let go. Oxygen rushed back into his lungs and into his bloodstream and made his head feel light like a balloon, and Himchan clenched and rolled his hips and milked him until he was dry.

After, they lay in bed and Himchan waited until Yongguk’s head was lolling against his shoulder, begging for sleep, to say, “That boy. Daehyun. You want him?”

Yongguk liked so many things since Himchan came into his life, but there were few things he _wanted_. He nodded, humming, as Himchan carded his fingers through his hair and drew him down and close to his chest.

“Me, too,” Himchan whispered, a confession into his ear.

.

They’d been together since the first year of high school. _Dating_ wasn’t exactly what they were doing -- it was something much more carnal and heavy, and when they were younger it wasn’t something they were ready to admit. Himchan was the sun Yongguk orbited, or maybe they were their own binary system, spinning in each other’s gravities until they spun out of control.

They needed a third. Someone who could balance them out, the fulcrum in their scale. Someone who could pull them outside of each other before one consumed the other. Himchan had been the first to suggest it and Yongguk wanted whatever Himchan wanted. Whatever Himchan thought he wanted.

Last year, there had been a boy. Junhong was a freshman in college while they were two years out, but he’d been too eager, too young. His body was mature but his mind, his tics, his expressions, were still those of an adolescent crawling into adulthood. He approached everything with wide-eyed innocence and wonder.

It was all surface-level. Even after all the months they spent together, there was nothing underneath that Yongguk could see. When he looked at Junhong, he saw a college student itching for new experiences; when he looked at Himchan, he imagined he could see the network of his veins underneath ink and skin like constellations waiting to ignite.

Junhong hadn’t understood balance. He couldn’t be the fulcrum when he was too eager to be on either side of the scale, tipping the weight and throwing them off until Yongguk couldn’t take the constant shifts. He didn’t want them to be like this, uncertain and jealous with each other. When Junhong met someone at school, they let him go.

“Would it be better if they were older?” Himchan asked him.

Yongguk said, “We both know that’s not it. When I look at you, I feel like I can see inside you.”

“That doesn’t happen right away,” Himchan scoffed. “No one’s going to meet you and be so intimate so quickly.”

“I just want more heart,” Yongguk said.

Himchan frowned, but Yongguk could tell he wasn’t dissatisfied with his answer.

.

Yongguk was waiting in the front this time when Daehyun came in for his second session. He entered and paused at the door, color rising into his cheeks as he braced his hand against the handle like he was debating whether to stay or to flee. Yongguk smiled at him, and that seemed to be enough to draw him in. It was early in the day, so the parlor was relatively empty.

“Hey,” he said, trying to be gentle. Himchan’s instructions played in his mind: be nice be subtle don’t scare him away. “You’re early.”

“I was excited,” Daehyun said. He walked forward to the counter and placed his sketchbook down on top of it, fingers tapping out a rhythm over the leather cover. Yongguk wondered if he played an instrument. “I’m sorry I’m early -- I can wait, if that’s what--”

“If you’re ready then I’m ready,” Yongguk said.

Daehyun swallowed, and followed him back where he led him. In a way, Daehyun seemed to be Junhong’s opposite: small where Junhong was large and long, dark where Junhong was pale. He held himself together like he’d been told too many times that he needed to contain himself. Yongguk could see how he'd try to fit in the spaces you left open or behind.

Yongguk looked down and let out a low whistle at the sketch when they were settled in the room and Daehyun was fitting himself into the recliner with his shirt off and the sheet drawn up over his legs. The drawing was beautiful. The kid had talent. It looked even better on his back, not only because Yongguk took pride in it but also because the way his skin curved and dipped made the ink seem alive.

“It’s healing well,” Yongguk said, touching a spot near the other boy's shoulder blade with latex-covered fingers.

“You did a really good job,” Daehyun said over his shoulder. He was wearing eyeliner again and Yongguk wondered how he’d look with the makeup smudged across his face. “I keep looking in the mirror and thinking how I got lucky with you.”

The boy turned around quickly, realizing what he’d said, the blush that had crept across his face when he entered returning with a vengeance, as Yongguk chuckled low under his breath.

Yongguk placed a hand on the dip of his narrow waist and felt Daehyun exhale. “Do you need anything before we start?”

Daehyun shook his head. “I’m good.”

He wanted to ask if Daehyun realized he could do other things while Yongguk was working. He could play games on his phone or read or talk or anything. But then he remembered how thick the air got around him when Yongguk had started, last time, how dense and heady. They’d breathed in sync and Yongguk could taste the spices advertised in Daehyun’s body wash. He knew that Daehyun had gotten off on the pain, and that excited him.

“Okay,” Yongguk said, snapping the mask over the bottom half of his face. He leaned in close as he massaged the cream into Daehyun’s golden skin. “I’ll start here,” he said. He traced his finger over the swell of a wave inked into the underside of his ribs.

Daehyun shifted once, his hips moving under Yongguk’s hands, and then they were starting.

It was easy to get caught up in the kid’s breathing, the slow rise and fall of his ribcage. He hummed every once in a while and Yongguk decided he liked that noise, liked that he was giving him something more than highly intricate and detailed scarring. Yongguk would move to another spot to continue the coloring process and Daehyun’s hips would rock gently under the sheet. He didn’t seem to be aware he was doing it, but Yongguk noticed.

He wanted to touch him without the barrier of latex between them. Would his skin be as soft as he imagined? Yongguk loved receiving pleasure almost as much as loved giving it, and Daehyun's near-shameless exhibitionism was doing something to the skip of his heart and the pressure in his balls. How far would Daehyun let him go?

He continued to work, noting what parts of his skin seemed ultra-sensitive, what made him twitch and gasp and what made him grit his teeth together. He felt that he was learning him as he colored him in, and his lungs filled with the scent of Daehyun's sweat and arousal. Yongguk wanted to touch so badly, perspiration beading over his upper lip as he concentrated.

"Okay?" he muttered, trying to relieve the thick sweet tension that had taken over the room when they had been at it for a while.

Daehyun groaned, and his voice was breathy when he spoke. "It's good."

He slipped the sheet down lower so he could get at the skin over Daehyun’s tailbone where the tattoo ended, but he placed his hand over the swell of his hips and applied pressure with his fingers and felt his dick twitch in his jeans when Daehyun gasped. “Shh,” he soothed, rubbing his thumb over Daehyun’s iliac crest. “Is this okay?”

Daehyun’s hips were rocking again, and he whined, “Yeah.”

For the next half-hour his hand slowly moved down and in and Daehyun was panting -- his mouth must have fallen open -- as he pricked colors into Daehyun’s skin. When he was done, the machine turned off and the room silent save for their breathing, he rubbed a gel over his work and the light, smooth touch made Daehyun moan.

His back was shiny with the gel. He patched him up and told him he was finished but Daehyun didn’t move. Worried, Yongguk took off the gloves and walked around to Daehyun’s front, and what he saw punched hot desire into his gut.

Daehyun’s eyes were half-lidded but full and dark, his red lips parted and his cheeks rosy, dewy. Sweat had gathered at his temples. Yongguk stepped close and brushed his fingers through Daehyun’s fringe to get it out of his eyes that fell shut at the touch as Daehyun shivered. “ _Yongguk,_ ” he whispered, pleading.

Yongguk danced his fingers over Daehyun’s side. His skin felt like the surface of a stone that had been smoothed over by water for many years. Yongguk’s fingers played with the hem of Daehyun’s sweats and Daehyun pushed his hips into his hand, needy.

He slipped underneath the loose fabric and scratched his fingernails against Daehyun’s hard clothed length. There was a wet spot in his underwear, and when Yongguk found it, he rubbed his thumb over it mercilessly. Daehyun’s hand shot out to hold Yongguk’s wrist but he didn’t push him away, his throat working over a groan.

“Let me,” Yongguk mumbled. He palmed Daehyun’s erection and Daehyun pushed forward and ground against him, taking what he so desperately wanted.

.

Himchan was at the counter when they were finished. They met eyes over Daehyun’s shoulder as Yongguk walked him out, and Himchan grinned.

“How was it?” Himchan asked Daehyun, who was paying with his eyes lowered and his bottom lip drawn between his teeth.

“Great,” Daehyun said too quickly. “It was great. Yongguk is fantastic, even.” His ears were red.

Himchan hummed, and Yongguk came up behind him and placed an arm around his waist, holding him against the counter. He saw brief confusion flicker behind Daehyun’s eyes at the motion, but it was gone in a moment. Understanding replaced it as he looked between them. Himchan and Yongguk both smiled and leaned forward and maybe it was all too much at once, because suddenly Daehyun looked tiny again, shrunken into his hoodie.

“Well,” he said. “Thanks.”

And then he was gone.

Yongguk hooked his chin over Himchan’s shoulder, disappointed. He’d been so sure.

“Don’t worry,” Himchan said. “He’ll be back.”

.


	2. himchan

Himchan was smoking outside of the shop on one of the flat wooden benches they’d placed below the windows when Daehyun appeared around the corner. It had been another two weeks since they’d seen him.

The weather had turned; Himchan had Yongguk’s leather jacket draped over his shoulders and was wearing a gray v-neck tee that was so thin he could see the dark shadow of his nipples when he looked into the mirror. Smoke furled up from his lips around the cigarette, and he stared as Daehyun approached, tongue playing with the inner hoops of his snakebite piercings.

Over the years he’d perfected the kind of image he presented, and knew exactly why Daehyun was already flushed when he neared.

The other boy wore a hoodie that seemed to be the same he had worn the last time, zipped up in the front with the hood over his black hair. Instead of sweats, though, he was wearing dark tight jeans that hugged his thick thighs. His curves were almost feminine, a pinched waist meeting the flare of his hips and quads. He’d gotten bolder with his eyeliner, and Himchan thought his lips were just the faintest tint of magenta that couldn’t be natural.

“Hey,” Himchan said, his voice coming out like a puff of smoke, a bit faded and wispy.

“Hi,” Daehyun said, stopping in front of him. Their knees lined up with each other, the way he stood. Himchan wanted to spread his legs a bit wider to see how Daehyun would fit between them. Instead, he leaned back onto his hands and tapped ash from the end of his cigarette, looking up at him through his lashes. Daehyun peered into the window of the shop nervously. “Are you open?”

“Ten minutes,” Himchan said. “But for you, I’ll open up.” He smirked and ran his tongue behind his front teeth.

“You’re not open,” Daehyun said, hunching over with his hands hooked under the straps of his bookbag. “I can come back later.”

Himchan laughed and the noise made Daehyun’s lips curve into a smile. He stood and flicked his cigarette to the curb. Daehyun watched the arc of the fall. “Seriously, it’s just ten minutes. C’mon, come in. What are you here for?”

They went inside after Himchan jiggled the lock a bit.

“I wanted to get a piercing,” Daehyun said. “Plus I wasn’t sure -- like, could you -- I just wanted an opinion on my back because I wasn’t sure if everything was doing what it was supposed to be doing.”

“Is it itchy?” Himchan asked. He went in behind the counter and Daehyun leaned up against it, arms crossed. He looked young, but not in the way Junhong had looked young. Yongguk had told him what happened last time after their session and Himchan’s first thought that flickered fresh and uninhibited across his mind had been: _Junhong would never have done that._ It put a bubbly feeling in his blood the same way going to a concert made him jittery and excited.

“No,” Daehyun said, shaking his head, and his hood slipped down.

“Does it feel gross? Do you feel sick?”

“No, and no,” Daehyun said. He tucked his chin into his chest to hide a shy smile and Himchan wanted to lift his chin back up with a finger but he kept his hands to himself. Later.

“Then it’s probably fine,” Himchan said. “But I can look at it for you.”

He led Daehyun into one of the smaller back rooms where they usually did body piercings. It was relatively bare -- just a couple of chairs and a display case of jewelry near a cabinet of supplies. Himchan gestured for Daehyun to sit in one of the chairs in reverse so that his legs were straddling the seatback, and he did so after setting down his bookbag.

“I can’t check out the ink if you’re all covered up,” Himchan teased.

Daehyun scrambled with his hoodie. It came off in a rush of movement, and his shirt quickly followed, and then Himchan was looking at the expanse of his back.

He tried to look at him the way Yongguk would look at him. Yongguk would see a canvas, a gift of skin that was cookie-butter-brown and supple. Yongguk probably considered Daehyun beautiful, something deserving of love. Himchan wanted to know if his fingernails would leave red lines if he raked them down over his spine. He was darker cinnamon over the tops of his shoulder blades and near the nape of his neck where the sun had kissed him.

Himchan turned his attention to the tattoo that began like a knot over his ribs and unfurled in a cascade of vines and petals and waves down to his tailbone and up curving over his shoulder. He reached out to touch it, and Daehyun stopped breathing.

“It looks great,” Himchan said sincerely. He traced the pads of his fingers over the edges where he was healed. “How do you feel about it?”

“I love it,” Daehyun mumbled.

“Turn around,” Himchan said.

Daehyun twisted over his shoulder to look at him. The eyeliner he was wearing made his eyes pop. For the first time, Himchan noticed the little beauty mark under his left eye. His thumb brushed over the mark and Daehyun’s lips parted. He turned in his seat, hands curled over the edge and leaning his weight onto them. A little soft layer of stomach fat rolled over the hem of his jeans. Himchan wanted to pinch him there. 

“What kind of piercing were you thinking?” Himchan asked. He stood close and over him; if Daehyun leaned forward he could press his lips to Himchan’s belly.

“I couldn’t decide,” Daehyun said. “I’ve got two in each ear and that’s it. I was thinking...here, or here.” He pointed to his bottom lip and then to his right nipple.

“Healing time is different for them,” Himchan told him. “For your lips, you’re looking at one to three months. For your nips, at least six. You should decide before coming in, you know? It shouldn’t really be spur of the moment.”

Daehyun leaned forward so that his lips were too close to the thin fabric covering Himchan’s stomach. His breath ghosted over Himchan but he looked up, flushed and determined, and Himchan realized what he was doing. “I was hoping you could convince me,” Daehyun said in a low, crooning voice.

Himchan held Daehyun’s chin with a light touch, thumb poised over his fat bottom lip. He itched to smear the magenta color from them. Daehyun’s lips parted, and his hot breath wet the tips of his fingers. “You’re not subtle,” Himchan growled.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Daehyun whispered.

Himchan pressed his thumb into his lip and watched how it dented, showing the bottom row of Daehyun’s teeth. He moved his thumb this way and that. Daehyun let him. “I think you’d look good with a spider bite,” he said, “but it’d be a shame for your mouth to be sensitive for so long.”

His thumbnail slid under Daehyun’s top row of teeth and he felt Daehyun’s tongue meet his skin on reflex. He slipped his thumb out. Daehyun’s lips stayed parted. Himchan looked down at his thumb. As he expected, a streak of magenta was now swiped across the whirl of his fingerprint.

“What’s a spider bite?” Daehyun asked him.

“Two piercings right here.” Himchan touched him again at one bottom corner of his lips, grinning when Daehyun nodded his head like he was trying to chase the touch when he pulled away.

“What about here?” Daehyun pointed to his chest. “I read that sometimes it doesn’t work. Sometimes there’s not -- enough.” His ears flamed red.

“Let me see,” Himchan said.

Himchan pulled a stool over to sit down in front of the half-naked boy and chuckled when Daehyun rolled his shoulders back and puffed his chest out for him. His skin looked so, so smooth. The light in this room washed Himchan out, but it seemed only to make Daehyun glow more golden than before.

Daehyun’s nipples were small, the areolae no larger than a coin, and Himchan knew that area would tighten and shrink if he rubbed the dark nubs to stiff peaks. He leaned in close to peer at him, and he found it a bit cute how Daehyun arched his back to allow easier access but still seemed to want to watch Himchan watch him.

He brushed his thumb over the mound. Daehyun sucked in a quick breath, and when Himchan looked up at him Daehyun was staring over his shoulder, lips pressed in a thin line, cheeks red. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Daehyun said.

“If you want to get your nipple pierced,” Himchan said, “I’m going to have to touch your nips, you know.”

“I know -- I was just -- I’m sensitive.” He flushed hard at that, and Himchan wondered if he was remembering his previous session with Yongguk.

Himchan could never describe Yongguk as needy, but in the hours before they both went to bed that night after Daehyun left, Yongguk had been _ravenous_.

“The tattoo must have been torture, then,” Himchan said with a knowing glance, steering the conversation as he reached forward again. He pressed his fingers against Daehyun’s nipple and rubbed lightly, and the skin began to tighten. Daehyun rolled his head back and exhaled.

“It was fine,” he said, breath hitching when Himchan scratched. “I kind of zoned out. It was -- relaxing, in a way.”

“Yongguk took care of you,” Himchan said. He pinched Daehyun between his thumb and forefinger and pulled, and he looked up to see how Daehyun’s jaw was working to keep whatever noise was building up in his throat inside his mouth.

“Yeah,” Daehyun whined.

“Yongguk’s good at taking care of people,” Himchan said. “Me? I like playing.”

Daehyun brought his head forward again with some effort and huffed out, “What?”

“We’re together, you know,” Himchan continued, fingers still working over Daehyun’s peak. He scooted forward with his stool so they were pressed knee-to-knee, and brought his other hand up to Daehyun’s other nipple. His hands seemed huge encasing Daehyun’s body like this.

“Ah,” the boy cried out softly.

“We’re together, but we saw you. Yongguk never says anything outright, so I have to. We’re together, but we want you.”

“I know,” Daehyun said. His eyes fell shut. Himchan stopped playing with his nipples and slid his hands onto his thighs instead. They were nicely muscled, and Daehyun spread them without being asked.

“What gave it away?” Himchan whispered to him. He gave into his desire from earlier and walked his fingers up Daehyun’s thighs and pinched the layer of fat over his belly. The pulse in Daehyun’s throat jumped.

“No one’s ever looked at me like you both did.”

“Like we wanted you?” Himchan asked, incredulous.

“Like I’d be worth it,” Daehyun said. He opened his eyes, and Himchan saw the stars behind them.

 _This_ , he thought, _this is what Yongguk was talking about._ He pressed his weight into his hands bearing down on Daehyun’s thighs and leaned forward to crush their lips together.

.

 


	3. daehyun

Daehyun had fallen asleep in the recliner where Yongguk inked him after Himchan pierced him. There was a breathable cloth patch taped to his chest now, covering the little barbell that made a horizontal line through his nipple. The pain of the piercing had made him light-headed and woozy, and Himchan had walked him to the other room and told him to sleep it off, if he could. “We don’t do this for all our customers,” he’d said with a wink. “I’ll wake you up when your friend gets here.”

He lay there thinking about the fan of Himchan’s lashes as the older man focused and lined the cannula needle up to the dot he had drawn on his nipple. His lips had still been slick from Himchan’s spit, and he could tell they would be tender and swollen for hours to come. Himchan had not kissed easy. He’d demanded teeth and fingers against his pulse and in his hair, and Daehyun had been more than willing.

Daehyun was good at giving other people what they wanted, and got his own sort of joy from being molded into something coveted, but it was rare for him to be so uninhibited and free with his appetite for sex. The pair at the tattoo parlor just seemed to draw it out of him.

There was an acute energy like a sun flare he tried to keep locked inside of his chest but it came out in all his needy little ways, sleeping around until it started to feel like he was drowning, clinging to anyone and anything that could keep him afloat. It was too much. The other boys and girls couldn’t handle him, or didn’t know how to. The sun flare was a stone that was dragging him down to the ocean floor. He wanted sex, but he wanted it a particular way and he wanted to feel it burn and shake him in a way no one seemed to be able to provide. What it came down to was: he wanted to be wanted.

A spasm of pain spiked across his chest and he curled in the recliner, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down over his knuckles and hugging himself around the middle. The skin around his nipple was hot. Himchan had left two tabs of painkillers and a glass of water on the table where Yongguk usually set up the pots of colored ink. He wanted to take them but he couldn’t move, rendered immobile by the sweet heavy pulse of his blood as his body tried to reconcile the hole through it.

He remembered how it had felt to be here in this exact spot, at Yongguk’s mercy, his brain fuzzy on endorphins and his cock heavy and hard between his legs. He blushed at the memory and tried to dampen the rush of feeling down to his groin imagining how Yongguk would treat him now, with the piercing.

 _Yongguk’s good at taking care of people,_ Himchan had said with a smirk that dug into the corners of his lips, and Daehyun sank into the thin cushions the recliner with the picture of Yongguk bringing the pills to his mouth and helping him swallow, of Yongguk rubbing ointment into the hot skin at his chest, in his mind.

Maybe Himchan would sit at his feet. He’d tease him and say, “Little Daehyunnie, you can’t take the pain? Maybe you’re not as strong as you thought,” and he’d laugh with his eyes dark and beautiful and he’d wrap his hands around Daehyun’s ankles to massage the muscle there, scratching and squeezing.

The door opened then, and Daehyun’s eyes darted toward it, seeing Himchan there in the frame with his leather jacket and threadbare shirt.

Himchan smiled and laughed without sound. “Jeez, you okay? Your friend’s here.” He strode forward with quick steps and scooped up the pills and the glass of water. While he spoke, he cradled Daehyun’s head in the palm of his hand and helped him swallow it all down. “I didn’t think you’d be so knocked out. You’re welcome to stay, you know. Yongguk will be here in a little while. Or you can go.”

Water splashed down his chin when Himchan didn’t move the glass from his lips. He didn’t seem to realize, only pulling away when his fingers got wet.

“Oh, whoops,” Himchan said. “Sorry.”

“I should go,” Daehyun said. He rubbed the back of his hand under his chin to catch the water. “I have shit to do.”

“Yongguk could give you a ride,” Himchan said, frowning a bit. He brushed his fingers through Daehyun’s hair, a strangely tender touch.

“I’ll be fine,” Daehyun said. He wasn’t sure why he was pulling away, exactly, only that it had become habit of his.

“Okay,” Himchan said. “Well, let me give you our numbers, then. Give me your phone.” He held out his hand, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. Daehyun reached into the pocket of his hoodie and brought it out for him. While he was inputting their numbers, Himchan continued, “We’d like to see you around, okay? Stop by whenever. I know...this can be a lot to take in. But we’re here, if you’re interested.”

When Himchan handed the phone back to him, he cupped his cheek in one hand and brought Daehyun’s eyes up to meet his. Himchan was brilliant -- his skin glowed and all of his features were sharp like his tongue. Daehyun felt that he was staring at light unfiltered. “I need to think about it,” he managed to say against the brightness.

Himchan brushed his thumb over Daehyun’s lips and grinned when they parted under his touch. He kissed him once, another tender surprise, and a high brief whine pushed past Daehyun’s throat.

“Get home safe,” Himchan said. Daehyun nodded.

His friend Youngjae was waiting for him. He leaned heavily against him the whole way back to their apartment.

.

The bar was never really full. It was the kind of place that drew a mix of people -- salary men and women coming off work or college students looking for a low-key place to spend the evening, foreigners who wanted the local brew and the rest of the city dwellers who drifted like old receipts in the wind. It was medium-sized and darkly-lit and more grungy than it was stylish.

Daehyun came here because Youngjae was the bartender, and he knew the drinks were safe. Usually. Tonight, though, Youngjae was not working.

A couple sat across from him at the counter who were well into their drinks for the night, their movements as they spoke with each other exaggerated and happy. Daehyun sketched them in his book with quick strokes; he liked the color on the woman’s lips and also how she threw her head back when she laughed, unrestrained and comfortable.

A short tumbler filled with ice and amber liquid slid into the space by his elbow and he looked up at the bartender who gave it to him. “From that booth,” he said with a nod. The guy who nodded back was fairly attractive, wearing a button up shirt that meant he probably worked in an office.

Daehyun ignored the drink. “You know I don’t take it unless Youngjae made it, or I ordered it.”

“There’s nothing in it,” the bartender said. “I _just_ made it.”

“Are you Youngjae?” Daehyun asked with a pointed glare.

The bartender huffed. “Fine, whatever. I’ll toss it. What a waste.”

He went to take the glass but Daehyun stopped him with the hand holding his pencil. “No, leave it.” He glanced over at the office worker. He had broad shoulders and eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “Maybe he’ll come over.”

“You’re such a manipulative slut,” the bartender said, using a barb that had lost its sting. The word didn’t mean anything to Daehyun anymore, partly because it was true. Daehyun shrugged and the bartender left to go take care of some other customers.

He went back to sketching and not more than ten minutes later the office worker was climbing into the seat next to him and tapping the glass that had remained untouched.

“You don’t like whiskey?” he asked.

“I don’t like being drugged,” Daehyun said, continuing to draw. The couple paid their bill and left. He huffed and looked down at his sketches in disappointment.

“What are you drawing?” the guy asked next, leaning in closer.

“Nothing anymore,” Daehyun said. He looked up at him. Up close, the office worker was only passably attractive, but he had a defined jawline and clear skin.

“So, what, do you come to this bar just to draw?”

“No,” Daehyun said. “I come to this bar to see if anyone wants to fuck around.” He used to flirt. It used to take him ages to get to the point. He talked too much, and he’d been told this often enough for it to start wearing him down. Better to be direct from the start. His intensity later always scared them off, anyway. “So,” he drawled, “what do you say?”

The office worker was breathing shallowly through his mouth and staring. Maybe Daehyun had come off too strong, and he was going to reach out to place a hand on the guy’s wrist but then the older man blinked and seemed to come to his senses.

He said, “My place is around the corner.”

They went. He had a nice apartment and his name was something that started with “Jong.” It didn’t really matter. Daehyun watched him pour them both a glass of rich red wine and then they sat around on his couch looking through Daehyun’s sketchbook. He showed him his tattoo, and then his new piercing. “Don’t touch,” Daehyun said. “It still really hurts.”

Jongwhatever promised not to touch.

He didn’t have any toys to play with, and they fucked with Jong on top and Daehyun pinned beneath him. Daehyun wanted more. He wanted to be forced against the cool glass of the window and drilled. He wanted Jong to circle his dick with his fingers in a tight squeeze to keep him on edge until he decided to let him come. But Jong just wanted to have sex.

Then Jong's hand accidentally brushed over the raw sensitive piercing in Daehyun’s nipple and Daehyun felt a scream rip through his throat at the sudden, full wave of pain that flashed through him and lingered as throbbing heat.

“ _Jesus,_ ” Jong hissed through clenched teeth, fucking into a space that had become so much tighter.

“ _Ah!_ ” Daehyun cried out. His hands came up to grip Jong’s shoulders and he scratched at them desperately. He wanted Jong to do it again but was afraid he’d pass out if he did so. His ears were ringing with the pulse of his blood and he felt like there was a heatwave coming off of his body; he couldn't breathe and his essence was sweating out of him through his pores, evaporating quickly. It was heavenly. He felt his eyes were wet with tears. 

“Sorry,” Jong said, “sorry, sorry, sorry,” punctuating each word with a punch of his hips, but he couldn’t stop -- not now -- and Daehyun didn’t want him to.

“ _Harder_.”

Jong tried. Daehyun closed his eyes and felt when Jong came inside the condom inside of him. He reached down between their bodies and pulled on his erection, and then it was not Jong on top of him but Himchan.

Himchan, who leaned down and closed his mouth over his nipple and sucked, sending ripples of pain that tasted like ecstasy through his veins. Himchan, whose tongue flicked over the barbell piercing and whose fingers dug into his ribs. Yongguk would be watching them. Maybe Yongguk had already come. He’d step forward and grab Himchan by his hair and force him down to meet Daehyun’s lips, and they’d kiss and bruise and then it would be Yongguk’s turn.

“Fuck,” Daehyun choked out. His release was sticky in his hand and over his belly. Jong pulled out while he was still buzzing, while he was still coming down.

.


	4. everyone

Snow swirled in front of windows and up from the sidewalks. The air was dry and had been for days, and a chill lingered in Daehyun’s bones no matter how warm he was. He peeked in through the window of the parlor and squinted to make out shapes inside. The glass was all fogged up. People were moving, but Daehyun stood there shaking his knees to ward off the cold and hugged his big winter coat around his body.

The man at the counter was talking to a customer. When he was done with the transaction, the customer walked to the door and opened it, and a gush of warm air spilled out into the street. Himchan stopped moving for a moment, and then he leaned forward over the counter, trying to investigate something that had caught his attention. He lifted a hand to wave, and his face was opening up for a smile.

Daehyun panicked. He turned quickly and stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked away, head tucked into his chest against the bitter wind.

How many times had he been nearly caught, peering into their shop like a boy aching for a puppy he knew he couldn’t have in the window? Himchan and Yongguk were becoming like celebrities in his mind, beautiful and perfect and unattainable. He’d been a floater for most of his life, drifting from person to person to person like the snow on the ground, unable to settle anywhere for too long and eventually disappearing into water. He’d ruin whatever it was they had -- he was almost sure of it -- but this didn’t stop him from craving what they were offering, so he came back, over and over, just to get a glimpse into their perfect snowglobe life.

He saw the kisses exchanged between them, the way they responded to each other with just a touch, and sometimes with the absence of it. They were so good to each other. Daehyun wanted that.

He wanted another tattoo, or another piercing. Maybe his lip this time. Or his other nipple. He wanted Himchan to wrap his long fingers around his wrist hard enough to bruise. He wanted Yongguk there when the thin film of pain became sweet pleasure and he wanted Yongguk to push him harder. He wanted them to hurt him.

Sometimes he sat up at night thinking about how that was pretty fucked up. But at the same time he knew he only wanted it because he knew they would never take it too far.

The only way he’d been able to get off over the past few weeks was by imagining them in place of whoever he was with at the time. The hardest he’d come was a couple of nights ago, alone in his room with just his fingers, and it had been a surprise, the image of Himchan bouncing him on his dick while Yongguk pushed in slowly alongside sending hot searing need straight to his balls.

He kept coming back because he was drawn to them like a magnet, but if they were already stuck together, where was the space for him?

It didn’t stop him from returning the following week in between classes. The school’s winter break was coming up soon, and parts of the city were dead. He lingered at the window of the shop and breathed fog onto the glass and jumped when he felt a soft touch at his shoulder.

“What are you doing out here?” Yongguk asked him when he turned.

Daehyun couldn't look him in the eyes. Heat crept up into his cheeks and Yongguk’s soft gravelly voice echoed in his mind. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

“It’s cold,” Yongguk said. “Come inside.”

“I shouldn’t -- I should get going--”

Yongguk held him gently by the elbow and turned him toward the door, and Daehyun followed him helplessly. “You’ve been coming by for a while but you never came in or said anything. We were wondering about you.”

He couldn’t help but feel that he was being chastised for cowardice, so he watched his feet as they entered the parlor. It smelled like coffee and cinnamon inside, and warmth clung to him and dug through his clothes and skin, making him shiver at the change. “Sorry,” he said.

“No need to apologize,” Yongguk said. He curved his fingers and pushed Daehyun’s hair behind his ear, making the hood he was wearing slip from his head. He smiled, and Daehyun’s chest tightened at the feeling it brought out of him. If Himchan was brilliant light then Yongguk was the soothing shadow behind it. “We wanted to give you time, but it’s cold out there.”

“I can’t feel my toes,” Daehyun said, blushing. He lied, “I was going to come in.”

Yongguk’s fingers were still there curled around his ear. He rubbed the cartilage lightly and Daehyun felt like floating. To be treated so gently was a dream.

“Himchan’s just taking care of a customer in the back, but after that we have a pretty free afternoon. How about we talk?”

They could have talked about anything -- it didn’t matter what, because Daehyun was back inside, breathing their air and caught in the gravitational pull of their relationship. He wanted, and he wanted, and he wanted.

“I think I’d like that,” he said, prepared again to drown.

.

“Let’s go for chicken stew,” Himchan wheedled. “I’m craving something salty, Bang.”

“We just ate out last night,” Yongguk said. He was closing up the register for the evening, making sure the transactions came out in the clear. Himchan could have done that, but he didn’t like using his head for numbers. He was much more interested in what they were going to have for dinner.

“So? There’s nothing to eat at home, anyway. We’d have to go shopping. I don’t want to go shopping.” He leaned both elbows against the counter and tilted his head back, exposing the long column of his throat.

Yongguk said, “But it’s shopping day.” He was the kind of guy who stuck by his routines.

Himchan pouted, straightening and sucking one of his piercings into his mouth. “We could invite Daehyunnie,” he said. He smirked when Yongguk’s eyes darted up to his in interest. “It could be a date.”

“A date,” Yongguk repeated, deadpan.

“Yeah,” Himchan said. He was growing more enamored of the idea the longer he thought on it. It would be good to get to know Daehyun before they tried anything else. It had been one of the things where they went wrong with Junhong, he thought. With Junhong, their relationship had been some secret thing they kept to themselves. They rarely went out together and most of the time they spent as three had been in or around a bed. The sex had been great but the intimacy lacking. “A date. Remember when we met, how that was? You asked me out and I turned you down because I wanted to ask you out, instead? Remember how nice that was?”

“Nice,” Yongguk said with a wry little smile as he went back to accounting. “That’s not how I would describe it.”

Himchan shoved him with his shoulder. “It was nice. It was sweet. A couple of dates to get to know each other. You were a real gentleman back then.”

“Oh, and I’m not anymore?”

“Nah,” Himchan teased. “You’ve got all these tattoos, now.”

Yongguk’s mood was lifted; Himchan could tell because he was counting bills with a slip of a smile on his face, and he didn’t mind that Himchan was looking over his shoulder, too.

“Let’s be gentlemen,” Himchan purred in his ear. “For Daehyun.”

.

Steam rose up between them. Yongguk and Himchan sat on one side of the table and Daehyun on the other, and the only word Himchan could use to describe the expression on Daehyun’s face was _confused._

He looked nice today; Himchan thought it would be a rare special moment to see Daehyun _not_ looking nice, because he seemed to care about his appearance a good bit, even if his style of dress was usually on the casual side. This evening, though, he’d lined his eyes and added a bit of shimmer over the lids, and his gloss made his lips seem plump and wet and just-kissed. His black jeans hugged his legs down to his boots, and when he took his jacket off he was wearing a sleeveless metallic grey tee with a low neckline. Himchan felt dressed down in his simple jeans and long-sleeved shirt, but he knew Yongguk didn’t care either way.

“I was going to go clubbing tonight,” Daehyun said when he noticed Himchan staring at his collarbones. “I don’t know -- I still might.”

He was a flighty thing, they both quickly realized, but it made Himchan all the more eager to pin him down by his wings.

When the food came, Himchan took charge and filled everyone’s bowls with stew from the large pot in the middle of the table. He made sure everyone had rice and access to the side dishes and it wasn’t until he was spooning out the chicken and peeling the meat off the bones for Daehyun that he paused, looking to Yongguk and then to Daehyun and then back to Yongguk. “The chicken here is great,” Himchan said to fill up the space between them all. “Have you been here before?”

Daehyun was blushing. They ordered a bottle of soju and had already taken a shot each, but Himchan was sure the blush was not from the alcohol. “No.”

“Well, I’m the best at getting the meat off. Yongguk never leaves a clean bone; it’s so frustrating.”

A little kitten smile started to form on Daehyun’s lips, and Himchan liked that. He continued with all the chicken he’d spooned out for the younger boy and then Daehyun said, a teasing lilt to his voice, “Hyung, are you going to feed me, too?”

It was alright after that. Himchan was glad he’d suggested a date, because it did a little more to help establish what he and Yongguk wanted out of the relationship. It was more than sex they wanted -- that’s what stopped Junhong from working out. It was all the parts of the relationship they already had together that they wanted to share with another.

They found that after a couple of shots, Daehyun’s thin veneer of precocious yet teasing apathy gave way to a boy who couldn’t keep up with his own mouth, who laughed with a kind of manic gleam in his eye, who was as sarcastic as he was sweet.

They talked about art. Himchan could keep up only because he knew of that world by association with Yongguk, who’d studied Art History in college and then took up with his older sister in her tattoo parlor. It was amazing to watch Daehyun eat and talk, eat and talk, and it was even more amazing to watch Yongguk unfold and stretch toward him, like a plant reaching toward the sun. In the past, Himchan had been the only one who had that affect on Yongguk, but he wasn't jealous; he was mesmerized. He stopped following the strand of conversation to drink soju and listen to the way excitement changed Yongguk’s voice and speech, simple sentences turning into exclamations turning into long, winding streams of his consciousness. The restaurant faded into the background.

Underneath the table, he felt Daehyun’s ankle press up against his.

He refocused on their date and found Daehyun smiling the widest smile he’d ever seen on him. It made him seem boyish and innocent, and Himchan felt a latch click into place in his chest.

When they were walking out, Daehyun stood between them, shoulders bumping into Himchan’s upper arm.

“You want to come over?” Yongguk asked when they were nearing the station. They were warm between the three of them and their breaths came out in small puffs of mist. “Unless you’re still going clubbing?”

Daehyun slipped out from underneath them and skipped to the railing outlining the entrance of the station, tipsy. He hadn’t closed his jacket and Himchan wanted to do it for him. Daehyun was all smiles, radiating positive energy, his teeth bright in his mouth. “If I come over now,” he said, turning to lean against the railing as Yongguk and Himchan caught up, “will you still want me later?”

“Yes,” Yongguk answered definitively, for them both.

Himchan reached out and grabbed the ends of Daehyun's jacket in his hands, fitting them together to get the zipper lined up. Daehyun stood still for him, head ducked to watch Himchan’s hands.

Himchan zipped him up all the way. His eyes followed the movement, and when they met Daehyun’s he saw they were full and heavy, dark with uncertainty and hope and everything Himchan used to feel before he met Bang. Himchan cupped Daehyun’s cheeks with both hands and brought his lips forward to meet his forehead.

Daehyun said, “Then I’ll come over,” and Himchan felt him sigh into his touch.

.


	5. extra (yongguk)

All the windows in the apartment are open, flies caught in the screens as light breezes trickle in through them, feeble enough that it seems there is no movement of air at all, that everything is caught in the thick heat of summer, that time is standing still.

Daehyun hasn’t moved from his position propped against an arm on the couch in ages. He’s resting on a cushion that’s probably damp from sweat with his knees bent and feet planted near his rear, taking up over half of the furniture, his sketchbook laying across his belly and his hand loosely holding a pen. His eyes are half-open, dazed from the heat. Yongguk lounges on the other side of the couch, one hand absently curled around one of Daehyun's bare ankles. He put a fresh glass of iced lemonade on the coffee table for him but Daehyun hasn’t made a move towards it yet.

He hasn’t yet given up sketching out a design for a customer, even though his brain feels like it’s slowly turning into mush from the stale, heavy air. He looks over at Daehyun, and his eyes trail over the trickle of sweat making its way down the side of Daehyun’s neck, pooling at the dip of his naked collarbones. He’s wearing a white tank that’s mostly translucent, the outline of his healed nipple piercing clear underneath the fabric. The short boxers have ridden up since his knees are bent, revealing the creamy skin of his upper thighs.

Yongguk isn’t dressed in much more, though he’d chosen a pair of old gym shorts for the semblance of decency.

Suddenly, Yongguk is struck with the urge to bury his face there in between the boy’s legs, to inhale and mouth at the skin and hear all the noises Daehyun makes when he’s being pleasured fall from his lush, obscene lips.

He puts his sketchbook on the table. Daehyun’s eyes follow the movement, though he remains still. The microwave beeps, signaling that it has finished heating the leftovers they were going to eat for lunch. It’s much too hot for microwaved food though, so Yongguk ignores it. He reaches out and plucks Daehyun’s sketchbook from his belly and puts that on the coffee table, too, and the pen clatters from loose fingers to the floor when Yongguk wraps both hands around either ankle and pulls.

“Hyung--” is all Daehyun manages in surprise before Yongguk is on top of him, his lips molding against Daehyun’s with practiced ease, his long fingers already playing with the elastic band of Daehyun’s boxers. He bears down on him and Daehyun spreads his knees wider to accommodate, a groan passing through his lips when Yongguk’s pelvis grinds against him.

“It’s too hot for this,” Daehyun whines, but his hands come up and his fingers wind through Yongguk’s hair, and he rolls his hips. Yongguk fits his hands over the soft muscle above Daehyun’s hip bones and yanks down and toward himself, pulling the smaller boy over the cushions and closer to his body.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Yongguk mumbles against his cheek as he begins to trail kisses down Daehyun’s face, his neck, his chest. He rucks Daehyun’s shirt up in one swift movement so that the fabric is gathered underneath his armpits and licks a long stripe up from Daehyun’s navel to his breastplate.

“No,” Daehyun whimpers, still trying to roll his hips. “No, I don’t want to stop.”

Yongguk isn’t counting the months they’ve been together, but he is cataloging the time that’s passed by the piles of Daehyun’s clothes that have amassed in their apartment, the sketchbooks that he finds lying around, the pens and pencils and the smudges of charcoal in the pattern of Daehyun’s fingers on door frames and tables and the headboard behind the bed. He is cataloging time, also, by all the marks that have healed on Daehyun’s skin. His first tattoo has long since healed, as has the piercing through his nipple. There are newer ones, some by Yongguk’s hand and others by Himchan’s: thin arrows printed over Daehyun’s ribs and wrists, an expansion of his first tattoo to spread down over his hips and the swell of his ass, the cute piercing in his belly button and the most recent ones at the tops of his ears. It was like he was taking the parts of Yongguk and Himchan he liked and finding out where they fit on his own body.

Yongguk presses his tongue flat over Daehyun’s pierced nipple and swirls around it, wetting it and teasing it until Daehyun’s heels are digging into his lower back and his erection is straining in his boxers, pressing into Yongguk’s gut. He’s always been sensitive there, kind of like Himchan.

“No one’s taking care of the microwave?”

A voice emerging from the bedroom. Himchan leans against the doorframe, his hair flat on one side and crazy on the other from sleeping on his pillow funny. He’d been taking a nap. Yongguk looks up at him without leaving Daehyun’s skin and Himchan rolls his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll take care of it,” Himchan says as Daehyun pants, marching into the connecting kitchen and opening the microwave door so that it will stop beeping.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Daehyun hisses when Yongguk digs his thumb into his other nipple, still working his tongue around the first. His back arches and his throat opens up. Yongguk bites lightly around the piercing and feels himself hardening in his shorts.

“Are you having fun?” Himchan says. He’s made his way to the couch. Yongguk rubs his erection against Daehyun’s and his teeth clench down harder around the bud in his mouth, and Daehyun cries out.

“Yes,” Daehyun gasps. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Hm,” Himchan says, reaching down to stroke Daehyun’s sweat-damp hair away from his forehead. “It’s cooler in the bedroom.”

He walks away with a little tantalizing sway in his hips and Yongguk finally detaches from Daehyun, pushing himself up and removing the other’s legs from around his waist. Himchan has disappeared into the bedroom. “C’mon,” Yongguk whispers.

Daehyun mewls like a hungry kitten and doesn’t move, mouth open and breath coming fast.

“C’mon,” Yongguk says again, untangling their limbs and standing. He takes a handful of Daehyun’s wrinkled shirt in his fist and pulls him up and then they are stumbling as they make their unsteady way to the bedroom. Daehyun slips out of his shirt and immediately crawls onto the cooled sheets.

The shades are drawn and the single oscillating fan is on its highest setting, rustling Daehyun’s hair with every turn. He twists around to sit, his dick tenting his boxers, but Himchan is there rolling him back around onto all fours, a sly look on his face.

“You ruined my nap,” Himchan says, as Daehyun sinks onto his belly, knees digging into the mattress and thighs thick and wide and spread over his calves.

“Sorry, hyung,” Daehyun mumbles.

“Sit up against the headboard, Bang,” Himchan says.

Yongguk raises an eyebrow at him but it’s not because he doesn’t trust him. He simply wants to know what kind of game they will be playing, but Himchan’s face doesn’t give anything away. What he says next, however, does, as Yongguk follows his order and slides into bed to lean against the headboard.

“You ruined my nap and now I’m frustrated,” Himchan growls, tapping Daehyun’s rear to push him up higher on the bed. The springs creak as they move, closer and closer to Yongguk. “Don’t you think you should apologize?”

“That was Yongguk-hyung,” Daehyun teases with a playful whine; he even shakes his ass a bit, but Himchan brings his hand down over the clothed skin hard and fast, a quick snap, and Daehyun gasps and stills, hiding his face in the sheets close to Yongguk’s thighs.

“Don’t blame Yongguk for this, Daehyunnie.”

Himchan spanks him again, and Yongguk realizes why he’d wanted him to sit at the head of the bed.

“Come on,” he urges Daehyun, who is whimpering as Himchan smooths his palm over his hot skin. “Come up a bit.”

Daehyun scrambles up before the next hit lands, finding comfort in wrapping his arms around Yongguk’s thin waist and planting his face in his upper thigh, settled between Yongguk’s legs with his mouth dangerously close to Yongguk’s hard length.

Himchan pulls Daehyun’s boxers down so that the band catches right underneath his ass, and then he snaps his palm hard against the bare skin there. Daehyun jolts forward, mouth opening but a cry doesn’t pass his lips. Himchan leaves the bed for a moment as Yongguk runs his fingers through Daehyun’s hair, muttering nonsense meant to soothe. If he really wanted to stop, he just needed to say so, and they all knew that.

Himchan returns with a bottle of lube and a small plug and Yongguk’s breath catches, fingers clenching in Daehyun’s hair for a millisecond before releasing. The phoenix tattoo seems to flare across Himchan’s skin as he pulls Daehyun’s boxers down to his knees and sits between his ankles, deceptively casual. “Are you going to apologize, yet?” Himchan asks him. He opens the bottle of lube and squirts it liberally down the cleft of Daehyun’s ass.

“No,” Daehyun says against Yongguk’s thigh, playing along. He’s practically vibrating in Yongguk’s lap, excited, and Yongguk loves to watch Himchan play like this.

“Well, then,” Himchan hums. Yongguk can’t really see from this angle, but he watches Himchan stroke two fingers down Daehyun’s crack, then back up, then down again, pausing after, and the hitched breath Daehyun makes tells him that Himchan has breached him.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Daehyun pleads, pushing his hips back, but Himchan stills him with a touch. Yongguk reaches down with his other hand and palms himself over his shorts.

“Teach you a lesson,” Himchan mutters, eyes focused. Daehyun makes little high-pitched broken-off whimpers that shoot arousal down to Yongguk’s dick as Himchan works him open, and finally Yongguk watches Himchan take the little black plug and fit it neatly inside Daehyun’s stretched hole.

Then Himchan leans forward over Daehyun’s back to kiss Yongguk on the mouth, trapping Daehyun between them with his ass in the air, helpless. Yongguk returns the kiss, cupping Himchan’s cheeks between his palms to drag him closer, and Daehyun whines. Himchan brushes his hand over Yongguk’s erection, making him twitch and shudder, and then he says, “Won’t it be nice to get some relief for that?”

Yongguk nods, shifting his hips so he can squirm out of his shorts, dislodging Daehyun for just a moment before he returns, naked from the waist down, breath caught in his throat. Himchan has always had a talent for this, whatever this is. His dick pulses in anticipation.

“Daehyunnie,” Himchan says, his hands around Daehyun’s ass and massaging the muscle there. “Why don’t you show Yongguk how you’re sorry for bringing him into this?”

“Himchan--” Daehyun grits through his teeth, before Himchan twists his wrist and wrenches the plug inside of him. Daehyun lifts his face and fits his plump lips around the tip of Yongguk’s dick, sucking lightly.

“Now,” Himchan says, and his voice is full of playful warning, “be careful.”

His hand comes down sharply, the snap of skin against skin almost starting Yongguk as his hips move without thought, pushing his dick further into Daehyun’s hot, wet mouth. Daehyun moans around the intrusion, jaw falling slack. He really hopes Daehyun won't clench his teeth as Himchan spanks him.

Yongguk does not count the hits. As Himchan rains his hand down over Daehyun’s ass and the backs of his legs, he focuses instead on the way Daehyun’s throat constricts and relaxes, allowing him in further and further, until Daehyun’s nose is buried in the crowd of coarse hair at his crotch. “Daehyunnie,” Yongguk murmurs, burying his fingers in his hair. Daehyun moans around him again, the vibrations heavenly around his shaft and making Yongguk’s eyes roll back in his head, and Himchan continues doling out his punishment.

Himchan’s hand is red. Yongguk is sure that if he were to touch it now, it would be searing hot. Himchan slaps Daehyun hard on his left butt cheek and it makes Daehyun gurgle around Yongguk’s erection, and when Daehyun pulls off to breathe a string of saliva connects the tip of his penis to Daehyun’s ruined, red lips.

“Fuck me,” Daehyun says, his voice ruined. “Please, please, please, hyung.”

“What do you say?” Himchan asks, each word punctuated by another light slap over Daehyun’s ass. Daehyun shakes with each strike, his entire body flushed and sweaty, his mouth lax and his eyes closed as the pain glistens over his body and transforms into arousal.

“I’m sorry,” Daehyun cries out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry -- I’m sorry I woke you up, ‘m sorry. Hyung, hyung, _hyung._ ”

Himchan pulls the plug out quickly and Daehyun collapses again in Yongguk’s lap, a wretched cry passing through his throat. Himchan pushes his fingers in Daehyun’s hole instead, and Yongguk can tell by the movement of his arm and the squelching of the lube that he’s vigorously stretching him further, two fingers becoming three and then four quickly.

Himchan strips and his dick juts out in a straight line from his hips. He lines himself up behind Daehyun and Yongguk fists his hands in Daehyun’s hair and moves him until his mouth is hovering over his tip again. When Himchan strokes in, one long, smooth push, Yongguk forces Daehyun’s mouth down over him, pushing past Daehyun’s throat without much resistance.

From there it is frantic. It is Himchan pumping his hips like a piston and Daehyun relaxing his jaw so that every thrust from Himchan is also Yongguk pushing deeper into his mouth. It is Daehyun reaching underneath himself to grip his dick to keep from coming. It is Himchan closing the distance between them and kissing Yongguk again, except this time Daehyun is being fucked at both ends.

Yongguk comes first, spilling into Daehyun’s hot cavern of a mouth and letting him pull off when he’s done, his release sticky and white and clinging to the corners of Daehyun’s lips and running down his chin. He reaches forward to drag his thumb against the mess and licks it clean as Daehyun tries to find leverage, one hand closed over his own dick and the other on Yongguk’s shoulder.

His back arches beautifully. Himchan fucks him ruthlessly, punching little noises out of Daehyun’s mouth, gripping him around the neck to make him arch even more. When Himchan finally comes, it is with a great cry as he slumps over Daehyun’s back, biting into a tanned shoulder and leaving marks.

When Himchan pulls out and moves away Yongguk flips Daehyun over onto his back and climbs between his legs. His fingers push Himchan’s release back inside of him, and he hooks his fingers as he sucks Daehyun off, the youngest of them coming quickly and violently, his boxers still around his knees.

“I’m sorry,” Daehyun says, coming down, tears ready at the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry, hyung, I’m sorry--”

“Shh,” Himchan coaxes. Sometimes, Yongguk wonders if Himchan likes this part most over all the others. “Shh, Daehyunnie, it’s okay. You already apologized.”

“I made a mess,” Daehyun cries.

Yongguk rises to get a wet towel to wipe them all down. They aren’t always so intense, but after sessions like this, it is rare for any of them to leave the bed or the room. When he returns after cleaning himself up a bit, Himchan has Daehyun curled into his chest, drifting.

“Shh,” Himchan’s still saying, running a light finger up and down Daehyun’s back. Yongguk lies down next to them, scooting in close and rubbing the towel over Daehyun’s shoulders, and then his back, and then between his legs, where his skin is still pulsing heat from Himchan's touch. He does the same to Himchan, and then he tosses the dirty towel toward their laundry hamper. “It’s okay to be a little messy,” Himchan says.

Daehyun hums between them, already mostly lost to the world. Over his shoulder, Yongguk meets Himchan’s eyes, and they are kind and loving and wonderful. He’s loved Himchan for so long, but just seeing what Daehyun has brought out in him, this attentive caretaker, has made him fall in love all over again.

“That was amazing,” Yongguk says, reaching out to stroke his fingers over Himchan’s hair. “You’re amazing.”

Himchan turns his head and catches Yongguk’s fingers in a quick, fleeting kiss. “I love you,” he says. “I love us.”

Yongguk brings his knees up to fit underneath Daehyun’s and drapes his arm over them both, squeezing them together on top of the sheets. “I love us, too,” he says.

Between them, Daehyun dozes, peaceful.

.

**Author's Note:**

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